


Stage Four

by BBCotaku



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Death, Monster!Eiffel, Sad, Writing zero gravity is hard, tumblr prompted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 22:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5514902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BBCotaku/pseuds/BBCotaku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's more to Decima than expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stage Four

**Author's Note:**

> So Random Dragon said they wanted to read some monster!Eiffel. 
> 
> Here is some monster!Eiffel.
> 
> Merry Christmas ^_^.

Damn it! This vis head scientist Alexander Hilbert on board da Hephaestus station. Officer Douglass Eiffel has reached Decima stage four, repeat, Communications officer Doug Eiffel has reached stage four. Box 963 offline—yebut!

The heavy thud of Eiffel ramming himself against the door echoed through the Comms room, causing Hilbert's heart to plummet, a phantom hand of anxiety clutching round his throat. 

He turned and saw Minkowski, her body stiff, eyes-bulging as she aimed her blaster at the door, watching the wrench acting as their only barrier between certain death on the other side jostle and creak with each thud. Blood pooled around her cheek, a deep scratch running down her jaw from where Eiffel...

Hilbert clenched his jaw, pressing a hand against his mouth, trying to sort the past half hour into place. 

Eiffel in the operating room, blood. At first it had looked like a spasm, flailing arms, arched back and hitched breathes. He turned his back for a second, reached for something on his desk—what was it?—scalpel? Tongue depressor? It didn't matter now. Lovelace had screamed, the restraints holding Eiffel to the bed had come loose. Or had he torn them? He'd gone for her face, scratching, digging, clawing at flesh, pulling away clumps of skin and muscle with a strength that wasn't human. 

"Hilbert!" Minkowski knocked him back to his senses, her voice strained and shaking as snapped her gaze away from the door, just for a second. 

The Russian blinked dumbly, shook his head, nodded. "Gun won't do much, need to contain him. Command supplied cryostatus chamber in storage." 

Minkowski nodded, cocking the gun. "What the hell is wrong with him?" She barked, her hands still as the door groaned under Eiffel's weight. 

"Some...most animal test subjects showed extreme violent compulsions after exposure to virus," Hilbert gripped Eiffel's desk, trying to steady himself as he spoke. "Stage four, didn't think...no human subject showed any signs," he swore again, heart jackhammering against his ribs. 

There was one last thud, the door denting where fist met metal and then silence. Deafening and ringing, a long pause of nothing. 

"Hera," Minkowski turned her eyes to the speaker situated just above the door frame, waiting for the AI's reply.

She'd been silent since Lovelace's death. The flaw of programming a machine to feel emotions along with logic, a period of artificial shock.

It would have been easy to assume she'd gone offline had it not been for her having detached Lovelace's shuttle once it became clear the ex-captain's life was a lost cause. 

"H̀e͡͏'̶̨̡s͘, he's gone," Hera glitched, speech sticking. Her voice was low, distant. Detached from the present. "Back to the lab."

Minkowski didn't lower her gun. "Now what?" 

Hilbert glanced ground the room before pushing off the desk, making his way to the small vent only just large enough to squeeze through. 

"Ve should get to storage," Hilbert ordered tugging the vent cover away from the wall. For once thankful for the abysmal quality of the station. "Secure food supplies, vater, good hiding until command—"

"Command won't help," Minkowski snapped. "Since when have those bastards proved themselves to be more than sadistic—"

"Command need Eiffel," Hilbert interrupted letting the cover float away. "Stage four allows for changes other than temper. Strength, stamina. They won't let themselves lose that." He pointed a finger to the vent. "Go."

Minkowski took a deep breath, a short nod before scrambling into the vent, pushing herself along with one hand. Hilbert following behind her.

The vents were small and cramped, closing in on the two, pushing them forward. Walls slick with a oily slime, the result of the mutant plant dwelling somewhere within them. 

Every now and then the two would pass an open grate, snippets of station bellow.  
Minkowski stopped suddenly, drawing in a shallow breath. 

"Vhat is it—" Minkowski kicked him hard in the face, sending him back a few centimetres. 

Through the grate Minkowski saw a man, his back to them. Shoulders hunched, fists clenched. He floated, bobbing up and down, head slightly cocked. 

Eiffel turned, looking at the grate through the corner of his eye. Sclera brass yellow, chin stained with what Minkowski hoped was his own blood, lips peeled back into an almost animalistic glare. 

Minkowski held her breath, blood roaring her ears as Eiffel pushed off from the wall, mouth twitching into a demented grin. 

She raised her gun, breathing hard. A loud siren blaring from somewhere down the hall, signalling Eiffel to turn his head, nose wrinkling into a glare. A tiny croak of a laugh groaning from between his lips as he pulled back his fist and shoving it through the vent's metal casing. 

"Back!" Minkowski snapped trying to force herself backwards into the vent. "Get back! Shit!" 

Eiffel tugged back the metal, ripping it open with inhuman strength. Reaching into the vent, clawing its way in, fingernails dragging against the walls. 

Hilbert paused besides another grate, pushing against it, listening to it creak and groan with each shove. 

"Hilbert! Move! Hilbert please!" Minkowski screamed, her legs twisting and spasming as nails clawed and dug at her eyes and face. 

The grate gave way allowing Hilbert to tumble from his hiding spot, slamming against the wall of the hall. 

Eiffel quickly followed, dragging himself through the opening, his fingertips digging into the metal as though they were nothing, Minkowski's gun gripped in one hand. 

Thorny vines wiped out from behind him, wrapping around his neck, dragging him back with a great shriek. Leaving the gun floating alone just outside the entrance of the vent. 

Hilbert blinked, breathing short and sharp as he made a mad grab for the gun, kicking off down the hall. Failed by the rabid cries of the Blessed Eternal. He didn't look back, scrambling towards storage. He could see it now, shit he was going to die. 

The realisation of the only possible outcome made the scientist stop, body going ridge as a air vent a little way down the hall burst off the wall. The twisted, writhing shape of the Plant Monster hitting the opposing wall with a hard, wet thwack. The creature whined, tendrils giving one last spasm before going still. 

Eiffel clawed his way from the vent, jagged cuts dotted across his face, arms and neck where the creature's thorns had left their mark. 

Hilbert raised the gun as the other man slipped out into the hall, head slanted ever so slightly to the side. Eiffel blinked, globs of water sticking to his eyes in thick clumps. 

"Dimitri," he croaked, voice hoarse and thick with blood and spit. He raised his hands, expression turning to that of a human—if only for a second. 

Hilbert's hands shook at the sound of his real name, waiting for the creature to lunge at him. 

Eiffel licked his lips, spitting out words as though it hurt him to speak. "Shoot me," he hissed, gagging on nothing. He swallowed thickly, forcing a small hint of a smile. "Be Ripley, come on." His entire body shook as he spoke. "I'll...I'll kill you too if you don't. Come on. Dimitri. Kill me already. Kill me!—"

Eiffel's head snapped back as the gun fired, the bullet striking just above his lip. Hilbert sucked in quick, shallow breathes. Pushing himself back. 

Eiffel's hands dropped to his sides, and for a moment he floated there, limp in zero gravity. 

And then he started to laugh. Struggling, high-pitched laughter as blood lifted up into the air. 

Hilbert blinked and the gun was ripped from his hands, nails digging into his throat, barrel pressed under his chin. 

Eiffel laughed again, the corners of his mouth rising into a grin as his pulled the trigger, blood splattering his face as Hilbert went limp. Doug huffed, tossing Hilbert's to one side, spitting blood from his mouth. He hunched his shoulders, hugging his arms to his chest, curling into a ball as he laughed, giggling until it hurt. 

"H-Hera!" He laughed, rubbing his eyes on the back of his hand. "Hera, can...can you hear me?" 

Silence. Interrupted only the low hiss of air being sucked from the room.


End file.
